


Preludes to Light

by Milieu



Series: Lights: A Trilogy [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Family Feels, Gen, Implied Emotional Problems, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Moving In Together, Step-parents, Step-siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 23:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16356338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milieu/pseuds/Milieu
Summary: Naminé decorates her new room and reflects on things.





	Preludes to Light

Naminé had wanted a sibling when she was little.

It was kind of a funny thing to reflect on now, she guessed. Fifteen going on what felt like five hundred, and her childhood wish was coming true, after a fashion. She's always wanted an older sibling, though. Someone to face up to bullies. Someone to face up to her  _mom_ \-- but she wasn't supposed to think about that. Her dad was doing a good job of not thinking about it, as far as anyone could tell. That was probably for the best.

Naminé didn't care to be around her dad when he thought about things too much and got broody. Not that he seemed to notice she was there anyway, whenever he got like that.

She wondered if the house was going to feel crowded, with double the number of occupants. She would have her own room still, and Xion would too, but they were going to be sharing a bathroom. It remained to be seen if the stereotypical teenage girl drama over who was taking too long in the shower would raise its head. Xion, from what Naminé had seen of her, seemed refreshingly drama-free. A tomboyish sort. Not too chatty. 

Xion's  _friends_ , now they were chatty. Some of them, anyway. Naminé didn't always mind, but she was somewhat relieved that her dad seemed liable to remain the loudest voice in the house.

Naminé hung her portraits and awards on the walls that they had painted together, a dainty pale blue with a curling floral pattern in whites and pastels. She hung her three-panel frame that held pictures of only her dad and herself -- the first Parent Day in kindergarten, her middle school graduation with all its silly ceremony, the evening of the wedding reception. 

At some point, she supposed, it would be nice to get a full family portrait in there -- herself, her dad, Xion, and Vexen.

(She wasn't going to be calling him Dad or Papa or anything like that, and he'd seemed oddly relieved when she said so. Naminé called her own dad by his first name half the time these days.

Sometimes Marluxia felt more like a friend than a father, and that was fine. They'd both needed a friend.)

At this point, she still struggled to envision the composition of such a family photo; where did everyone belong? Where did the older sister belong? It was a position she'd never put herself in before.

Naminé drew the sheer lace curtains across the window and let herself smile at the twisting shadows they cast on the room. She unpacked her boxes, one by one. Her paints and pencils and notebooks stored neatly in her desk, her clothes in the closet. She walked barefoot on the shag carpet and dug her toes in; it was soft and plush and new. Was it silly to say that a carpet felt like new beginnings?

Well, Naminé was used to being silly. A quiet girl with her head in the clouds and a dream in her heart. It was a personal victory that she could still dream, still imagine. 

She wondered what Xion's dreams were.

There was a thud downstairs and the sound of Marluxia's swearing. Naminé sighed, but there was a smile tugging at her lips, and she turned to leave her room. Ought to see what he'd dropped and make sure that he didn't miss anything trying to sweep it up.

She was used to cleaning up his messes, literal and metaphorical. It was something that she had thought she should grow to resent him for, but she never had, not as she grew to understand him as a person more than a parent.

Anyway, Vexen was a neat freak. Naminé would soon be overtaken as the primary cleaner of the household, she was sure.

"Dad? What did you do?" She called as she reached the top of the stairs and bounced down, fingers trailing along the banister.

Things were still haphazard, partly unpacked and partly hidden. Naminé had no doubt that they were bringing in lots of baggage on all sides, in every sense.

She didn't think it would be very long at all before this house started to feel like a home.

Maybe it would be the first real home any of them had.


End file.
